


to give him wings

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beginnings, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22508368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: It wasn't the worst fight they'd ever had when each had threatened the other that they'd be the happier one, but five years on, Atsumu sometimes wonders if he should concede defeat now. Because although he's playing pro and for one of the best teams in Japan, he's still not found the one.The one he'll make fly.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 27
Kudos: 480





	to give him wings

**Author's Note:**

> I love the timeskip arc ... that is all.
> 
> I wrote a fic called The Onigiri Option which is slightly connected to this. It's not necessary to read it first, but you might like it.

‘Anyway …’

The worst word he’d ever heard. The worst word in the history of any words and any language in the world. In the universe. In every universe.

Anyway …

No, no noooooo, Atsumu yelped and hid his face in his pillow. Maybe he could die right now. Will himself to death, so he wouldn’t have to face anyone ever again. If anyone had the capacity, it was him.

Lying flat on his back, he screwed up his eyes, creased his forehead thought bad thoughts until it hurt. Death would come for him as surely as

_‘Beep beep’_

Think bad thoughts. Think bad thoughts. Think bad thoughts.

_‘Beep beep’_

Think bad—

_‘Beep Beep’_

DAMN IT ALL I’M TRYING TO DIE HERE!

Caving, he reached for his phone, then yelled some more and threw it across his bedroom, but not before he’d seen the message flash on his screen.

“FUCK YOU, ‘SAMU!”

Infused with rage, Atsumu leapt off his bed, pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and headed out for a run, Osamu’s grinning face haunting him.

“There is,” he huffed.

“No fucking way,” he puffed.

“I’m gonna die.” Pant. Pant. Pant. “While you’re so happy, scrub!”

But he still had to go to training.

Still had to face them all.

He cringed again and felt red wave flush on his face. They’d all be there. They all knew. They’d all heard the ‘Anyway…’

He didn’t think he’d ever been this miserable before in his life.

“I want to die.”

Back at his room, he trudged into the shower, turning it up fall blast so it fell like hot needles on his skin. If he scrubbed hard enough, then maybe the humiliation would wash away too.

But then again, if he scrubbed too hard and the water was too hot, he’d look like a tomato.

He turned the temperature down, finishing with a blast of cold water.

When his phone rang, he almost ignored it before he recognised the tone, and hurried to answer.

“Hey, Granny.”

“Atsumu-chan, you sound sad today.”

How she got that from two words, he didn’t know, but then his Granny was wise in ways he’d never understood.

“Ah, it’s nuthin’,” he moped.

“Homesick?”

“Not—”

She didn’t give him time to finish. “You should come back for a visit. Longer than a weekend this time. Maybe join a different team. Or join your brother in—”

Oh, she was on _that_ again. He listened listlessly as she started telling him about Osamu and how well he was doing.

Like he didn’t know. Like he never talked to his own brother or checked _Miya Onigiri’s_ social media pages.

“Granny, I do have to go. Training starts soon so I gotta leave for the bus.”

“Do your best, Atsumu-chan,” she finished. “And think about coming home.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe back home the crowds would be more forgiving of a blunder. They’d get his jokes at least. Not like yesterday.

He checked his phone before putting it in his pocket, scowling when he saw Osamu’s message again.

**< <First rule of comedy, scrub, is getting the words in the right order>>**

_UGH! I want to die._

He’d been so excited joining the Jackals. The fact Bokuto Koutarou was there had filled him with such pleasure, he’d been unable to keep his face straight for a week.

“This, ‘Samu, is the face of someone who’s H A P P Y!” he’s gloated. “Someone who’s a success. Wanna trade yet?”

‘Samu had been busy trying to figure out costings, sat at the desk in the bedroom they still shared and had muttered a few curse words, but largely ignored his brother.

“You know who I mean, right. BOKUTO KOUTAROU! Top Ace. I’m gonna set for him. Give him wings. Together we’re gonna—”

“Yeah, yeah, great,” Samu had muttered, his teeth gritted. “Now leave me the fuck alone.”

“You gonna admit I’m happier?”

“No chance.” Suddenly ‘Samu had sat up, grinned at his notebook, then added something with a flourish of his pen. “And that’s how it’s done! Daaaaad.”

“Where you going now?”

“Dad’s lookin’ over my plan. You’re not the only one with dreams, ‘Tsumu,” he said waspishly. “It’s just yours are always gonna be reliant on someone else.”

“WHAT?!”

“You need a spiker.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? It’s the Jackals. Not only is Bokuto-san there, but Meian, too, He’s the fuckin’ ace and he’s so fricking cool. He’s gonna spike my toss, ‘Samu, and it’s gonna be so, so sweet and you’re gonna—”

But ‘Samu had left the bedroom, an odd sort of smile on his face, leaving Atsumu pondering what he’d been on about.

He knew he’d need a spiker. Just as he’d need middle blockers and a Libero. That’s how teams worked. “Samu, you’re babblin’ again,” he’d muttered.

Why this conversation crawled into his mind now, he had no idea, but he guessed it had something to do with the greyness of the sky, his Granny’s phone call, and the nagging feeling that ‘Samu had had a point.

He loved playing for the Jackals. He’d made it now as their first choice Setter and the team was strengthening with every practise, every new signing and every game.

But somewhere it lingered with him just how happy he’d been playing for Inarizaki. And when the team did well it was largely ‘cause he and ‘Samu had clicked and for those special moments his brother had flown.

“I gave you wings,” he sighed. “But you don’t want them no more.”

“Right! Gather round,” Coach Foster began. “First up, I’d like to introduce our new signing.”

“What’s he saying?” Bokuto asked, nudging Atsumu.

“Uh…” Atsumu frowned trying to translate, then just as he got it, Foster switched to Japanese.

“Oh OHHHH, new signing!” Bokuto exclaimed, his eyes twitching as he scanned the gym. “Whoooooo?”

“Straight from University,” Foster continued, and his eyes focused on Bokuto and Atsumu, before switching to the door, and beckoning someone in. “Some of you already know him.”

The figure crept in, mask across his face, and hair curling down his brow.

“Oomi-kun!”

_Great, another monster. Maybe this … is the …_

“SAKUSA! YAY”

Wearing the Jackal’s training kit, he looked smarter than the others on account it was spanking new, but Atsumu knew he’d look the same in six months. There’d be no holes, no straggling threads and nothing to besmirch his uniform. And he’d tuck everything in, all neat and proper as if his granny were dressing him.

“Bokuto-san,” Sakusa acknowledged, muffled into his mask. The he approached the front of the group, bowed to the Coach and Captain before facing the team.

“Hey, and me!” Atsumu called out, explaining to the squad “We played together at training camp, ya know. Ah, good times, right, Oomi-kun?”

“It was necessary to improve,” Sakusa replied. He bowed again to the entire team. “Thank you for having me. I hope to make the Jackals stronger.”

“Well, that’s the idea,” Atsumu muttered under his breath.

“And next up, feedback from the fan event yesterday,” Foster said.

_Oh no._ Atsumu stared at the floor hoping it would swallow him up as a few people glanced his way, smirking.

“Bokuto, they love you!”

“Hey Hey Hey!”

“But… keep the acrobatics to a minimum,” Meian interjected. “If you get injured because you’re fooling around, I’ll personally kick your ass! Rest of you, it was all good. Uh…” He exchanged a look with the coach. “Atsumu, maybe stick to the coaching side of it with the kids. That’s … um … your strength.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, head bent low. “Sure.”

Coach Foster coughed. “Third, we have tryouts today. You know the drill. Be kind. Be active. Be useful. Do not intimidate these guys, okay. Most are still at school. Very few of them will make the grade anywhere, but they deserve a chance.” His eyes flickered to Atsumu. “Be kind,” he repeated.

“I can be kind,” he retorted,

“Good, ‘cause you sure aren’t funny!” Inunaki, their Libero, wisecracked. “What was it you said again?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, had merely said it to throw a jibe Atsumu’s way, but of course a reply wended its way through the air with the stealth of an arrow to his heart.

“I saw the footage,” Sakusa-the-Archer muttered. “Miya-kun said, ‘Bokuto’s sharps are as spiky as his hair.” He frowned. “I don’t get it. Was it a joke?”

“I mixed the words up, all right!” Atsumu snapped and waved his hands in agitation. “Hair as spiky as… no … His spikes are as sharp as his hair. It was a compliment!”

“Ohhh,” Bokuto whistled out a breath. “I thought it was something about spicy food. And that’s good, cuz my spikes really are spicy hot and … but why my hair? What’s spicy about my hair, Tsum Tsum.” He shook his head, utterly bemused. “No, I don’t get it either.”

“Anyway…” Meian called, his voice loud and clear

The way it had been yesterday when Atsumu’s joke had fallen so flat and no one had been able to cover the ghastly silence.

Anyway.

Ughhh! The worst word in the world.

Atsumu cringed. _I wanna die._

He ate lunch by himself, picking at some sushi and a salad, halfheartedly munching on a banana for added energy. Why am I such an idiot? Maybe I should never speak again? I’ll stick to coaching the kids. Not give any more interviews. Leave it all up to Bokuto.

**< <Hey, what’s up?>>**

Samu?

**_< <I’m fine!>>_** Not admitting anything to that scrub.

**< <Granny said you were ‘sad’. Said I should be nice to you.>>**

Oh.

**_< <She wants me to come home. Thinks I’m homesick>>_ **

**< <Nah, not you>>**

**_< <That’s what I said, but you know Granny. Gets fixed ideas in her head.>>_ **

**< <So things are okay, then>>**

**_< <Yup, we have a new signing and tryouts this afternoon. Team’s gonna be stronger than before.>>_ **

**< <New signing? Who?>>**

**_< <Can’t tell ya. You’ll only run your mouth off to that boyfriend of yours>>_ **

**< <Hey! I can keep a secret! When I want to>>**

**_< <I can’t tell ya, ‘Samu. It’ll be released soon. But he’s good. I’m excited>>_ **

**< <Gonna give him wings, ‘Tsumu?>>**

Oomi-kun with wings. The image didn’t sit right with him.

**_< <Yeah sure>>_** he bluffed.

**< <So I don’t need to be nice to you>>**

**_< <Hey! I’m your brother>>_ **

**< <No relative of mine would have told such a poor joke. I’m disowning you, scrub>>**

He felt a little better after that, despite the insult, and finishing up his food, he swilled down an energy drink before heading to the toilets.

Incapable of being quiet even when having a piss, Bokuto was chattering away to himself in a cubicle when Atsumu slunk in. He crept into another cubicle, locked the door and sat with his feet raised off the ground waiting for Bokuto to leave. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy—he was amazing to play with—but Bokuto had no off switch, and sometimes even Atsumu needed quiet time to puzzle things through.

Bokuto left, yet Atsumu stayed where he was. This was as private a space as he was going to get today, so he might as well think here.

Sakusa. He was good. Great even. He’d been ‘the’ catch from University and more than that, he had a thirst to win equal to his thirst to take down Ushijima at the Adlers. And for his own part, Atsumu wanted to harness that so he could face Tobio with his strongest team behind him.

So why was he not more excited about him being here? Why had he felt the need to kid Osamu that everything was great, and that Sakusa was gonna be the one that had wings?

And the thing was, when the Jackals released the names of their new signings, he knew Osamu would laugh and shake his head. So hopeful of finding the same type of connection he’d had with his brother, Atsumu had never considered that it wouldn’t come from two of his peers.

There was no way he’d ever be able to pull off a surprise attack with Sakusa. The guy was brilliant, but methodical, every last move planned in his head. And Bokuto … strong and with a streak of unpredictability, but that was a vein to mine carefully in case Bokuto imploded.

The toilet door opened. Someone dashed into a cubicle, slamming the door shut and promptly started to throw up and then groan. Peering down, Atsumu caught a glimpse of sneakers, small and a little worn.

“You okay, kid,” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” The kid gasped. “Haven’t been like this for a while. Nerves, I guess.”

Nerves… Maybe here for a trial? Libero?

“You’re here for the tryouts?”

“Mmm.” He started to retch again. “I’ll be fine soon. Better out than in, right? That’s what my old senpai used to say!”

“Great.” Deciding this was about as ‘kind’ as he was going to get, Atsumu unlocked his door and washed his hands. “Maybe splash your face with water, kid. You might feel better.”

Back in the gym, Bokuto was tying up new sneakers, and pulling his kneepads on. He gave Atsumu a wave and a ‘yoo-hoo’ then started gabbling away to Sakusa, putting an arm around his shoulders and telling everyone there how they’d used to play against each other. For his own part, Sakusa edged away, not taking his mask off yet, and stared mournfully ahead.

It was, Atsumu thought, his natural expression. He wondered if over all the years of their acquaintance, he’d ever seen Sakusa crack a smile.

“Right, the tryout-ees will be gathering soon,” Meian said, clapping his hands to gain everyone’s attention. “We won’t need all of you, but stay on the sidelines instead. This is not an afternoon for showcasing your talents, right!” He scanned them all, eyes lighting on Atsumu. “We’ll definitely need you. Hey, tie your lace properly, will you. Don’t want you tripping up.”

“Huh?”

He thought about arguing, wondering if this was yet another dig at his slip of the tongue, but when he looked down he could see one lace loosening. Bending down, he pulled far harder than normal to suppress his irritation and then…

“It’s snapped,” Atsumu said, holding the threadbare lace in his hand. “I’ve got more in my kitbag. Hold on.”

“Be quick. They’re coming in now.”

“Sure.” He made it look as if he were speeding out to the changing room, but once there, he took his time, searching methodically through his bag to find the new laces, instead of hurriedly upending it on the floor. He gave a half smile, wondering if Kita-san would be proud and credit this as a small victory. Then he sighed, because the thought of Kita brought back his Inarizaki days, the games he’d played and how ‘Samu had flown through the air.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. And Kita would be pissed at seeing him moany like this. So, threading the lace through, he began to think of the positives.

Playing pro.  
Playing pro for a top team.  
Surrounded by incredible spikers.  
A brilliant coach.  
  


And, yeah, he might not be one hundred percent happy all the time, but then who was? Bokuto still sulked when things went to crap. Sakusa prob’ly didn’t get the concept of happiness at all. Of his old teammates, Kita based his happiness on the small accomplishments of the day, Suna, signed to a V1 team, kept his feelings –win or lose-under his air of inscrutability. He wondered about Aran-san. Maybe he missed him, even if he and Osamu had been pains in the butt. And he was pretty sure ‘Samu, despite his denials, missed volleyball, even if he were heading for stratospheric success.

He heard some excited yells and the sneakers squeaking on the court, rapidly finished tying up his lace, and made his way to the gym. At the door, he saw the new kids huddled in a group in the far corner, and although he flicked his attention their way, he couldn’t spot anyone he knew. Hands in his pockets, he sauntered out, making a bit of an entrance, and then wandered across to where the Coach was explaining the afternoon’s activities.

“Atsumu, I need you to set for them. Are you warmed up?”

“More or less.” He stretched out one leg to the side, switching to the other. “Anyone we know here?”

“Most straight from school,” Oliver muttered. “I think there’s a couple from Inarizaki… that was your school, right?”

“Uh… yeah. After my time, though.” And hadn’t won anything, ‘cept the Prefecturals.

“They’re looking your way,” Oliver continued. “You must have made an impression.”

“What can I say,” Atsumu muttered, and cast them a covert glance. “Nah, don’t know ‘em, but that tall one did okay at Nationals.”

Bulky, though. A strong middle blocker, he thought, with a good receive. Useful addition to the team, but …

_No wings._

The first group came on at the back of the court, with the coach explaining that Atsumu-san would throw a series of tosses. ‘Take it in turns to spike,” Foster said. “No jostling.” He smiled. “Not yet. I want to see what you can do. The competitiveness we’ve taken as a given, but we’ll get to that too. Okay?”

They started a little blankly, then nodded in unison.

“Bunch o’ sheep,” Atsumu mumbled, but he took his place at the front of court, and waited as Meian threw a ball to him.

The session passed quickly. Sometimes Atsumu threw a bit of a curveball their way, but most of the time, he kept his tosses light and easy to hit. There was nothing intentionally reckless to his sets, nothing sensational, and nothing that would stop the show and bring the crowd to their knees. But then this wasn't a test of that. This was as much a warm up for the new kids, as it was for Atsumu.

Just a shame he was so damn bored.

The second group clumped on. Atsumu kept himself from rolling his eyes, barely spared them a glance, took a ball from Meian and tossed it high.

Too high.

It wasn’t a cautious toss at all. It was not one he should have set for the new kids. It was high, reckless and fast, but somehow a devil had got hold of him and he couldn’t resist. What did it matter? One toss out of twenty that wasn’t directed towards the easiest of spikes. It would land with a flub on the ground, he’d grin, apologise and begin the process aga—

“MINE!”

“Huh?”

Twisting towards the voice, Atsumu heard rather than saw fleet footsteps careening through the players, rushing towards Atsumu’s impossible set. His jaw dropped open. His heart thumped erratically as he saw a pair of sneakers (small like a Libero’s) thump off the ground, then leap high, high, high into the air. And watched as a hand connected with the ball to send it flying over the net.

And as the player descended, a flash of orange streaking to the ground, Atsumu could have sworn he saw wings.

“WHOA!!” Meian gasped.

“That’s my disciple!!” Bokuto yelled from the other court. “Hey, short-stuff, you’re back now!”

“Bokuto-san!” the player shouted. He grinned widely, standing in the centre of the court, and then his wide, shining eyes found Atsumu. “Thank you for the toss, Atsumu-san. That was amazing.”

“Shouyou-kun,” he whispered. “It...It’s actually you. Here in person.”

“Haa- yeah,” Hinata replied, and pulled at his shirt. “You once said you’d toss to me, so … uh … you have, I guess.”

“What … what have you been _doing_ for the past three years?” he asked, outraged. “We … Where … WHAT HAPPENED? You had more springs put in your legs, or something?”

“Atsumu, we need to get on,” Foster called.

_Ugh, am I in shit?_ He lifted his hand in apology, but Foster gave him a wink and a thumbs up.

“Get back in line,” he told Hinata, and gave him a grin. “It’s good to see you, kid. Hey, was that you in the toilets?"

“Ah, yeah, my guts playing up again. I’ve been waiting for your toss for three years now, Atsumu-san!”

As he trotted back to the line, waving again at Bokuto, he smiled so wide, Atsumu thought he’d been blinded by the sun.

“Are your spikes still as sharp as your hair, Bokuto-san?” Hinata called.

“Sure are, short-stuff! Hey, that was your joke, Tsum-Tsum!” Bokuto yelled. “Now I get it!”

And there it was. The world becoming brighter, lighter and a whole lot better in the space of one spike.

There were butterflies in Atsumu’s stomach, and the palms of his hands began to sweat so much he had to wipe them down his shorts before nodding at Meian for another ball.

“You like that kid, right?” Meian murmured.

_Oh yeah._

“I’m gonna make him fly.”

It was later, after he’d caught up properly with Hinata (as properly as it could be with Bokuto chiming in every second) that Atsumu wended his way home. It was getting late, stars glimmered half-heartedly in the cloudy sky, and the moon had all but shrouded itself in the clouds, but nothing could dispel the anticipation and delight reverberating through his core. His footsteps were as light as it were a bright Summer’s day, but he stopped on a corner and pulled out his phone.

“Hey, can you talk?”

“Go away,” Osamu replied, his voice sounding heavy and cross. “Early meeting with suppliers tomorrow.”

“Are you alone?”

There was a groan, and then he heard Osamu opening and closing a door and plodding into another room.

“I am now,” he yawned. “What’s up?”

He gurgled his reply, excitement bubbling up inside of him, and threatening to spill everywhere.

“’Tsumu? You okay? Was Granny right? Are you… what’s the matter? Tell me!”

“I found him,” he said through a half caught breath. “’Samu, I found him.”

Samu didn’t ask who. He didn’t ask what the heck his brother was babbling about. Nor did he snarl, tell him to shut up because he needed to sleep. Hearing the sound of the tap, Atsumu knew his brother was filling his kettle to make a cup of tea.

“I’m happy for you, ‘Tsumu,” he said at last. “Tell me all about it.”


End file.
